


Two Hearts Race (Gay Porn Edition)

by kat_fanfic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Coercion, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Porn Pairings, No underage, Porn Actor AU, Smut, Some Plot, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dude, Derek Hale. That’s like fucking the holy grail of porn!”</p><p>Stiles grinned. “I know, right?”</p><p> </p><p>When Stiles gets the chance to shoot a movie with Derek Hale - gay porn star and hunk extraordinaire - he has no idea what he gets himself into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Hearts Race (Gay Porn Edition)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful beta [Maxx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown)!

“….So, this Derek guy, what’s he like?” Stiles was lounging on the big, comfy couch in his agent’s office, watching Lydia deftly click her way through this week’s email requests. 

She didn’t even look up to answer. “Hung.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, Lyds, I’m not blind. Tell me something good, though. He secretly straight? Into watersports? Come on, give me anything that distracts me from that face, or I’ll combust before I’ve even set foot on set.”

“Eager, are we?” Lydia smirked, still clicking merrily away at her computer.

Stiles stared at her, imagining her face melting off from his glare. “Seriously, Lydia, is that even a real question? Have you _seen_ the man? He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is, a hunky hunk and totally up my alley. Why again haven’t we ever worked together before?”

That earned him a patented Lydia Martin glare in return. “Oh, I don’t know, Stiles,” she said sweetly, irony dripping from her words. “Maybe because until now you’ve had that strict no-werewolves rule, no exceptions made?”

“Oh,” Stiles gulped, flashing back to the one movie of his Scott had made him watch. 

‘Knotting Hill’ was a hugely popular low-budget gay werewolves-on-humans porn series that had catapulted a little production firm by the name of M-Squared rather quickly into the big name league. It still boggled Stiles’ mind, knowing that Lydia and Danny had paired up to conquer the porn industry. 

Scott had been their first break-out star and was much asked-for, especially now that he could afford to make himself scarce. Most people thought that he was trying to drive up his price, but the truth of the matter was that sometime between ‘Tying the Knot’ and ‘Dog with a Bone 3’ he’d fallen in love with his fluffer. 

It was cute, in a nauseating, cotton-candy, Taylor Swift kind of way, especially considering that their relationship had started out very much one-sided, with Isaac writing Scott smitten little notes and leaving them at work for him to find attached to little pieces of chocolate and small tubes of the special lube Scott liked.

Once he’d gotten Scott’s attention, though, things had gone very fast. The courtship had been brief, but intense, and in less than six months, the two were exclusive, living together and raising a litter of abandoned cats they had found on their second date. Last he knew, the two of them were even thinking about buying a house together. The fuckers.

“Hey, I never asked,” Stiles blurted, drowning out his rather envious thoughts by talking, sitting up to look at Lydia more directly. “How are things now that the top seller has left the building?”

“Psh, please.” Lydia tapped out a short message on her phone. “It’s not like Scott was our only long-term investment.”

“Oh?”

Turning back to her inbox, Lydia double-clicked. “Hm. Would you be interested in being the top in a bi movie, by any chance?”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Not particularly, no. I mean, I don’t mind topping, you know that, but there’s a reason I’m exclusively in gay porn. Boobs, fake or not, they just don’t do it for me anymore.”

Nodding, Lydia tapped out a few words and hit enter. “Funny you’d say that to me of all people,” she remarked glibly.

Smiling a little as he flashed back to the awkward and hyperactive sixteen year old he’d been, crushing openly on the prettiest girl in school while shoving cucumbers up his ass in the privacy of his room, Stiles caught Lydia’s eyes. “Ah, well, the clarity of hindsight, it’s 20/20. But know that if you had a cock, I’d be all over you, Lyds. Boobs and all.”

“You flatter me, Stilinski,” Lydia said tonelessly. “By the way, there _is_ something about Derek Hale that is distraction-worthy. If you can tear your mind away from Scott’s dick for a moment.”

“Ew,” Stiles murmured, shuddering a little. “It’s like a train-wreck, you know? One can’t _not_ think about it. It’s not something that can be unseen, like, ever.”

Lydia primly stifled a yawn. “You have my sympathies.”

Forcing his mind away from his best friend’s impressive – _ew, ew, ew_ \- package, Stiles waved his hand in a desperate ‘continue’ gesture. 

Lydia’s lips curled in a decidedly evil-looking way. “Hale is versatile now.”

Stiles’ mind went blank. “Uh. Hm-wha..?” was the best he could come up with, all cognitive brain-functions having screeched to a sudden halt by the mental image of _Derek Hale bottoming_. 

“Yup,” she grinned, taking a sip from her expensive, especially imported Norwegian water. “Mr. Power-Top apparently had a bit of a wake-up call and changed his contracts.”

“Wow,” Stiles muttered. “I never thought I’d see the day. And you’re sure he agreed to work with me?”

Lydia shot him a look.

“Wow,” Stiles repeated, blissfully unperturbed as the thought of shooting a scene with Derek Hale had him softly throbbing in anticipation.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia made a note in her day-planner. “Don’t forget that the call for ‘Boysnared 2’ is at nine tomorrow and Danny has specifically asked me to remind you that he needs more than just a few drops for the money-shot, so no jerking off tonight, Stiles.”

“Man,” Stiles complained, “that happened one time forever ago, and I was a total rookie back then.”

“True,” Lydia agreed easily. “So I’m really hoping that a cold shower is in your immediate future, boyo, or I’m going to tell on you.” 

It wasn’t the way she absently gestured toward his crotch that had Stiles cross his legs in an instinctual protective gesture, but rather the thought of Danny’s wrath. For all that he seemed to be gentle and mild-mannered, he was by far the more vicious of the two co-owners of M-Squared.

“Right,” he agreed. “Cold shower it is.”

Lydia smiled. “Good boy. Now shoo, I’ve got work to do.”

Getting up, Stiles took a moment to adjust himself, hissing a little as both his boxers and his pants conspired against him to be as uncomfortable as possible. “Charmed as always, Lydia.” He hesitated in the doorway. “So, about Hale…”

“God, you are _such_ a fanboy, Stiles,” she huffed, both amused and exasperated. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have details, okay?”

“Great!” Stiles threw her a little air-kiss and jumped through the door just in the nick of time to avoid the penis-eraser she threw at him. 

That night, Stiles disconnected his router after the second time he inadvertently brought himself to the brink. “It’s like I have no self-control,” he muttered, resolutely closing the bookmark-folder that was aptly named ‘Hard-on-Hale’.

 

* * *

 

Stifling a yawn, Stiles walked onto the set of the day at nine am sharp the next day. “Hey, Isaac,” he called out, throwing his empty coffee to-go cup in the trash.

Looking up, Isaac grinned at him. “Oh hey, Stiles! I totally forgot it would be you today. Awesome!”

“Good to see you, man,” Stiles answered, stripping absently as he went over to the catering table and looked over the choices. “Oh man, no twinkies?” 

A low chuckle sounded from behind him. “There is a joke in there somewhere, I’m sure.”  
Stiles huffed a laugh and turned to grab the speaker in a tackling hug. “Boyd, my man,” He exclaimed. “Haven’t seen you around the bend, lately.” 

Catching him and lifting him up a little, totally unselfconscious about their nudeness, Boyd pressed a chaste little kiss on Stiles’ mouth before releasing him. “Took a bit of a sabbatical to help Erica out. But she’s better now, so I’m available full-time again.”

“Nice,” Stiles said, genuinely looking forward to a scene with Boyd. “It’s been ages since we had a shoot together.”

“Hah,” Boyd sniffed, “it’s been ages since I’ve even been on a set at all! I hope I still remember where everything goes.”

Grinning, Stiles grabbed a chocolate muffin from the table and stuffed half of it in his mouth. “I heard it’s like riding a bicycle, you never unlearn it,” he mumbled through muffin-bits.

“And that’s my cue,” Danny said, suddenly appearing behind Boyd, waving a little at them before checking his clipboard. “First scene is a conventional twink-seduction, guys. Stiles you’re on the couch getting some relief, with Boyd coming in to help you out. I need you both hard, no cold-start please. Give me some nice, slow BJ’s, maybe a little bit of fingering before you get to the main act. Boyd, make sure to get Stiles to come first, then finish on him, the less time you need after pulling out, the better. Got it?”

“Yessir,” Stiles grinned, his cock already at half mast. 

Danny dimpled at them. “This is gonna be a good one, I can practically see the sparks. Good to have you back, Boyd.” He turned to go, stopping as he became serious once more. “Remember, this is a bareback movie. I checked over your current test results and you’re both fine, but is there anything you’d like to be up-front about? Because now’s the time.”

Stiles mutely shook his head, meeting Danny’s penetrating gaze head-on. 

Boyd gave a little smirk. “Been abstinent ‘till the last shoot, so no chance of me catching something.”

“Nice,” Stiles murmured. “Gonna give it all to me, huh?”

“You know it, baby,” Boyd growled and grabbed Stiles by the back of the head to pull him into a heated kiss.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Jeez, boys, I get it. You’re hot for each other, yadda yadda yadda. Save it for the shoot.”

“Such a romantic our Danny,” Stiles simpered, even as he pulled back from Boyd and glanced over to where their props guy was preparing the set. “So, we ready, or what?”

“Almost,” Danny said, all business now. “Lighting needs another moment. Isaac,” he called out over to the fluffer who was currently playing with what looked to be a laser-pointer, “get your ass over here and do your job!”

Stiles laughed as Isaac visibly jumped and headed over to them. “Hey, sorry about that. Where do you want me?”

“Let’s try out the couch,” Stiles decided. “That way we can yell at Greenberg when he put too many pillows on it again.”

“Or not enough of them!” Isaac cackled, ignoring Greenberg’s rather nasty comment with aplomb.

Settling down on the freshly cleaned red couch, Stiles sighed deeply as Isaac immediately went down on him. Laying a hand on the wild curls, he played with the soft strands as Isaac slowly bobbed his head up and down, sucking his cock at a leisurely pace that brought Stiles to the low-thrumming, deep arousal he needed for a long scene. 

“So, how are things with Scott?” Stiles asked after a moment, rather enjoying the little flicks of tongue Isaac added to the steady pulls.

Pulling back, Isaac played with his balls as he shot him a wide grin. “As if you don’t know every detail of our relationship.”

Stiles smirked. “Sure, I do. I know everything from _Scott’s_ perspective, which, as you may know, is not always concurrent with everyone else’s.”

“Point,” Isaac said, licking around Stiles’ cock as if it was a lollipop, rather cat-like lapping up the small beads of pre-come leaking out. 

Stiles sighed again, relaxing fully into the ministrations. Isaac was his favorite fluffer of all time and he was glad that Scott had no problem with his boyfriend continuing to work, even if he himself had basically quit his own job. 

Stroking Stiles’ cock gently, Isaac looked up as Boyd joined Stiles on the couch, plopping down next to him. He was still fully dressed, but there was a visible bulge in his pants. 

“Do you need me, B?” Isaac asked, rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ perineum. 

Gasping softly, Stiles closed his eyes and let the tingling heat gather in his lower belly.  


“I’m good,” he heard Boyd say and held back a grin. The big black man got off on watching almost as much as on doing the deed, so he usually didn’t need much prep before a shoot. 

Stiles dozed for a while, letting himself be pampered, not even stirring when someone dabbed a bit of powder on his face. When he and Boyd finally got called on set, Stiles’ cock was throbbing and tingling in a lovely way and he couldn’t help but slide a gentle hand down Isaac’s slightly flushed face as he gave him a soft “thanks”.

The scene itself went without a hitch. They were both consummate professionals, but there was enough genuine chemistry between them that they didn’t have to fake their enjoyment. 

They were nearing the end and Stiles was on his back again, one leg hooked over the back of the couch while the other rested on the floor to make for a better camera angle.

“Oh,” Stiles gasped, as Boyd fucked into him in deep and regular strokes, the big man groaning every time he bottomed out in him. “Oh, _fuck_ , that’s good.” 

Stiles had been ready to come for a while now, but held back so as not to shorten the scene. Letting his gaze wander around the room in a deliberately aimless way, he glanced at Danny and finally got a thumbs-up.

“Ah,” he moaned immediately, letting his control slip. “Yeah, god, fuck me. So close, man. Uh, gonna come, uh yeah, fuck!” 

Lifting his hips off the couch, he threw his head back and let the orgasm wash over him, not holding back as the pleasure made him whimper and cry out in sheer bliss. He came all over his belly in thick spurts, just as ordered, and even as he shuddered through the last ones, Boyd let out a muffled curse and pulled out just about fast enough to add his own come to the growing puddle on Stiles’ lower body. 

Panting softly, Stiles writhed around a little as he slowly came down from the high. He squeaked in surprised laughter when Boyd swooped down and playfully licked around his softening cock. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Danny signal Heather to keep rolling, and so Stiles turned his body slightly towards the camera, letting the light hit his sex-flushed face as he closed his eyes and hummed lowly. 

“Aaaand, cut!” He heard Danny call out a few moments later and he opened his eyes, grinning at Boyd. 

“That was awesome, B! Man, I missed working with you.”

“Likewise,” Boyd murmured as he pulled back. Isaac handed them damp towels and they cleaned up even while all around them, the small crew started to change the set.

“Great one, boys,” Danny said, eyes on a little monitor. “Very natural, I liked it. And Stiles, nice job on coming untouched. Been awhile since you managed to do that.”

“What can I say,” Stiles uttered as he wiped excess lube from his ass. “I was hugely inspired.”

Boyd snorted and slapped his naked thigh. “Stop, or you’ll make me blush,” he deadpanned as he stepped into his pants.

Grinning, Stiles lay back on the couch, basking in the afterglow of both a great come and the knowledge of a job well done. He ‘oomphed’ when something hit him in the gut, scrambling upright to an armful of his clothes, shoes and all. 

Danny was standing over him with his arms crossed, scowling. “Is there a reason why you’re still here?”

“Um,” Stiles offered. “Post-coital fatigue?”

“Out.”

“Okay, okay.” Sitting up with a groan, Stiles dressed quickly, wary of the growing exasperation on Danny’s face. “I love it when you go all Alpha male on me,” he added conversationally as he tied his sneakers. 

Danny smirked. “Speaking of Alphas…”

Stiles threw his hands up, slapping them over his ears hurriedly. “Lalalala,” he cried as he backed away, fleeing from the pure evil in Danny’s deceptively gentle-looking eyes.  


There was just no way he was prepared for what Danny had to say about Derek Hale, he was positive about that.

Dropping his hands only after he was at a safe distance, he clapped Boyd on the back on his way to the exit. “I make like a baby and head out.”

Boyd’s nose wrinkled. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles leered, chortling when Boyd made a lunge at him and he danced out of reach. “Too slow, Vernon.”

Boyd growled. “Don’t call me that.”

“But it’s such a lovely name, it’d be a shame not to use it every once in a while-“

“Oh, yeah?” Boyd interrupted him calmly. “Do you remember the last Christmas party at the M-Squared office and how we got Lydia so drunk she threw up in the rubber plant?”

Frowning, Stiles nodded. “It was a ficus, but go on.”

Boyd smiled widely. “Well, let’s just say that she was just inebriated enough not to protest when I had a look at a certain file…”

Stiles blanched. “Oh, man, please tell me you didn’t.”

“Sure did. So, if I were you, I’d be real careful about first-name digs, my friend.”

Shaking his head mournfully, Stiles pouted. “I’m surrounded by evildoers and backstabbers. And thinking that here I was about to invite you to my famous no-holds-barred-no-questions-asked-BBQ.”

“Great,” Boyd said distractedly, looking at his bleeping phone. “Erica and I will be there at six. See you then.” 

Walking away slowly, Stiles shook his head. “I need new friends.” Fumbling his own phone out of his back pocket, he looked around for Isaac. Shooting him a quick text consisting basically of **gotta run. 2night bbq at my place? bring scott and steaks** , Stiles grinned into the glaring sunshine as he stepped outside. He had some shopping to do.

 

* * *

 

“Dude, Derek Hale. That’s like, fucking the holy grail of porn!”

Stiles grinned, handing Erica a burger fresh off the grill. “I know, right?”

Scott looked positively stunned. He was sitting on Stiles’ lawn chair with Isaac nestled into his side and one of their kittens – “Matt, he cries when we leave him alone too long” – sleeping on his chest. It was so adorable, even Boyd had taken a picture non-ironically.

Tickled at Scott’s reaction, Stiles hid his grin by turning back to the grill – almost bumping into Erica who was still standing there, staring mournfully at her empty plate.

Stiles sighed. “You ate it already?”

“It was very small,” she said defensively. 

“It really wasn’t,” Isaac piped up from behind them, earning himself a glare from Erica. 

Stiles just smiled and placed another burger on her plate, making sure it was a bigger one. Erica beamed at him and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best, Stiles!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured and winked at her. “Make sure to chew this time.”

Eying the remaining patties and steaks critically, he thought once again that feeding a bunch of humans with supernatural appetites was a lot like being den-mom to a black hole. Oh, and then there was the fact that Scott and Erica were werewolves, too.

“Your friends eating you out of house and home again?” said a wry voice from the patio door.

“Dad!” Stiles exclaimed and almost tackled his father in his haste to pull him into a hug. “I didn’t know you were back from your vacation already.”

John smiled, clapping Stiles on the back a few times before pulling back and waving hello to the others. “Yeah, well, I kinda missed my son, so I cut it a few days short.”

“Ah,” Stiles nodded knowingly. “Aunt Trish got on your last nerve, huh?”

John pulled a face. “She’s a horrible busy-body and shouldn’t be allowed near anyone with a pulse. Good thing she’s a coroner or I’m sure she’d be swamped with lawsuits.”

Stiles burst out laughing. “What, did she try to set you up again?”

“Yes,” his Dad grimaced. “And this time, she even had a _guy_ around, can you believe that? Nice enough fella, but way too invested in his real estate business, if you ask me.”

“Oh god,“ Stiles chortled, noting absently how Scott’s ears were almost visibly getting bigger as he listened to them with a big smirk on his face. “How did you manage to get out of that one?”

“Easy,” John said with a grin. “I just told him that just because my son was in gay porn, didn’t mean that I was interested in sucking dick as well.”

A sudden choking sound had them turn around, to where Scott was currently busy coughing up a lung, his face a flaming red. 

“Wrong pipe,” Isaac explained calmly, having rescued Matt from his heaving boyfriend’s chest. 

“I,” Scott spluttered, pointing an accusing finger at them, “officially hate you!”

John looked at Stiles as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “It’s like he thinks I did that on purpose.” 

“One would think so, yeah,” Stiles laughed and handed his Dad a full plate, joining him at the table. Erica had roped Boyd, Danny and, surprisingly, Lydia into an impromptu game of touch football and their squeals and shouts made for a nice backdrop to the warm summer day.

“Erica looks healthy,” John commented, biting heartily into his burger. 

Stiles watched her throw Boyd over her shoulder and cackle manically as she slammed the egg to the ground in what apparently was a touch-down, thinking back to the shy, sickly girl he’d known in school. “She is now. It’s taken her a while to settle into the transformation, though. Apparently there were complications because of the epilepsy.”

“I’m glad,” John said through a mouthful of homemade coleslaw. “She’s a nice girl. So,” he added then, leaning back a little. “Tell me about this new gig of yours.”

Stiles frowned. “What new gig? I’m still working on ‘Boysnared 2’.”

John gave him a look.

Stiles looked back.

It took a little over one minute for Stiles to cave. “Oh, you mean the Derek Hale thing?” he asked nonchalant.

“Yes, I mean the Derek Hale thing, Stiles,” his Dad huffed.

Stiles lifted a shoulder. “To be honest, there isn’t much _to_ tell, Dad. Sometime in the future, I’ll have a scene with that one porn actor that got me interested in the business in the first place and apparently, he has changed his contract to versatile and _I_ have changed mine to include werewolves and isn’t that the greatest coincidence of all time? And, yeah. I’m both terrified and exhilarated at the very prospect.”

“Not much to tell, I see,” John chuckled. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes as something occurred to him. “How did you even know about this? Lydia blabbed again, didn’t she.”

“In her defense, I still am your financial advisor and that one job would earn you enough to be able to pay off the mortgage on the house and still have money to spare.”

“Huh.” Stiles was stunned. “That much?”

His Dad nodded, a certain glint entering his eyes. “Apparently, they really want you, for whatever reason.”

“Hey!” Stiles exclaimed, ignoring Scott’s snigger.

Grinning, his Dad nodded towards the grill. “There more where this came from?” 

“Not for you, there isn’t,” Stiles huffed, proceeding to pile green salad on his Dad’s plate.

 

* * *

 

The call came a few weeks later. 

“Hm-whu?” Stiles mumbled into his cell, barely coherent enough to hit the ‘connect’ button, much less check caller ID. 

“Stiles, there’s been a change of plans.” Lydia. And even worse: Lydia’s no-nonsense voice. “How fast can you be at Demon Wolf Productions?”

Blinking in the relative darkness of his room, Stiles rubbed a hand over his face. “Where?”

“Keep up, Stilinski. DWP headquarters, we need you there, asap.”

Groaning, he glanced at his alarm clock. It was barely ten a.m. on his one day off of the week. “Oh, man,” he mourned, feeling the last vestiges of sleep fade away. “You better have a good reason for this, Lyds, because you just woke me from, like, the best dream ever. There I was, lounging on that huge bed made out of grape jelly--“

“They want you for a scene with Derek.”

“--and there were about a million puppies… Uh, what?”

“Derek. Hale,” Lydia said slowly. “Turns out, DWP just had a cancellation and they want you to fill in. Quite literally, by the way, if you get my drift.”

Stiles did. “Lydia,” he said softly, suddenly feeling more nervous than he’d been in years. “I’m not sure I’m the right guy for this.”

“Oh, but you are,” she said, a hint of warning in her cheery voice. “They asked for you specifically, so you better _be_ the right guy or I’ll have to neuter you.”

There wasn’t really anything Stiles could say to that. 

Stumbling out of bed, he got ready in record time. Since he was going to be topping – oh god, he was going to top! – he didn’t bother with his usual cleaning routine, settling for washing up thoroughly.

To his surprise, it was Lydia rather than Danny that met him in front of the big iron gates that guarded the entrance to the Demon Wolf production lot. 

“You here for moral support?” He quipped, even as a hint of nerves made itself noticeable in his gut. Lydia only ever was at a shoot when they expected there to be problems.

“Hardly,” she answered, checking her perfect make-up in the side mirror of the Jeep. “I’m just making sure that you don’t fuck up and cost us the chance to work out a very lucrative collaboration with DWP.”

Somehow, that didn’t do much to reassure him. 

They were waved through security right away and met by a dark-haired beautiful woman that had the palpable air of an Alpha. Her gaze wandered over Stiles with a slight sneer as she held up a finger and snarled a few words into her headset. She was barefoot, Stiles noted in passing.

“I’m Kali Alion,” she said finally, turning towards Lydia. “And you must be Lydia Martin. My husband and I were very impressed by what you have done with your company in so short a time.”

Lydia gave her a cold smile. “What can I say, it’s all in the talent.”

Kali inclined her head. “A valid point. Now, I’d love to stay here and exchange pleasantries, but our shooting schedule is already delayed due to Jackson suddenly being unavailable. I hope you don’t mind if we get right down to business?” Without waiting for an answer, she stalked away, leaving them to follow her into a rather nondescript building to their left. 

It looked like a warehouse, with only the big catering truck parked in front giving away that there was more to it. Well, that and the big sign proclaiming one of the parking spaces to be ‘Reserved for D. Hale’.

Stiles shook his head in disbelief at actually being here. DWP _never_ worked with outside talent, everybody knew that. 

Blinking a little as his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, Stiles felt his mouth drop open. There were all kinds of different sets all around him in various stages of disarray, at least fifteen people working on them even as they obviously weren’t all going to be needed anytime soon.

“The difference an almost unlimited budget makes,” Lydia commented, her voice dry.  
“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles was a bit in awe, even as his nervousness grew. He was used to being a big fish in a small tank and he couldn’t shake the feeling that here he’d turn out to be the smallest fish in the whole aquarium.

All that vanished from his mind the instant he’d laid eyes on Derek Hale for the first time. The man was leaning against a pillar, staring down at something in his hand with a deep frown. Now and then, he took a sip from a small water bottle and Stiles couldn’t have looked away from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed even if his legs were on fire. 

It was only when Hale suddenly looked up and met his stare that Stiles jolted and glanced away, blushing furiously at having been caught gawking. Checking to see of anyone had witnessed his faux-pas, he found Lydia deep in conversation with Mrs. Alion and nobody else was paying any attention to him. 

Gulping down his nervousness, Stiles braced himself and slowly walked up to Derek. “Uh, hi, I’m Stiles.” 

The gaze meeting his was decidedly cool. “Yeah. And?”

Baffled, Stiles waited, the hand he’d extended for a shake hovering between them. After a long moment of silence in which Stiles again felt an embarrassed flush rising on his cheeks, Derek rolled his eyes and finally took his hand. “’m Derek,” he grunted, looking like he’d just smelled something particularly disgusting.

“Yeah,” Stiles babbled, “nice to meet you, man, sorry about earlier. It’s just that, I’m sort of a fan. I mean, I’ve seen most of your stuff and you’re like, a legend. I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

“Sure you are,” Derek said acidly.

Taken aback by the open hostility, Stiles felt most of his excitement drain away. Great. Of course Lydia had forgotten to mention that the man was a total nutjob before volunteering him. Before he could voice his complaints at being treated like a leper, they were interrupted.

“Derek. There you are, my dear boy.” The voice was smooth and cultured, with the kind of faint British accent Americans usually fell for in a New York minute. 

Stiles shuddered, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. There was something slightly off about that voice.

“Mr. Alion,” Derek said neutrally. “This is Stiles Stilinski. I take it you chose him for the wolfsbane scene?”

Stiles’ head whipped around, staring at the handsome man standing before him. “You’re Duke Alion. _The_ Duke Alion, owner and CEO of Demon Wolf Productions and the pioneer of werewolf porn! Wow, it’s such an honor to meet you!”

“I’m sure it is,” Mr. Alion said with a faint smirk, head turned towards him. The big dark glasses effectively hid his blind eyes and still it felt like he was somehow seeing inside of him. “Kali tells me you’re a rather handsome young man. May I?” He held out his hands in a way that told Stiles that he was rarely rebuffed. He could certainly understand why.

“Sure,” he murmured, making an effort to keep the instinctual frown off his face. The fingers touching has face were somehow both gentle and firm, and Stiles had no idea why he had to suddenly work hard to keep himself from squirming.

“Ah, I see now,” Mr. Alion said with a quirky grin as he was finally done. “I’m sure you and Derek will make quite the pair.”

He didn’t listen for Stiles’ stuttered reply before he walked away, a cane suddenly appearing in his hand. Stiles stared after him, feeling a bit like a rat that had just encountered a sated snake.

“He’s not what you think, you know.”

Stiles turned back towards Derek. The Alpha was staring at him with a deep frown. 

“What, he’s _not_ the pioneer of werewolf porn? And he’s _not_ the guy that can make or break an actor in the business?”

“He is not a nice guy.”

Stiles snorted. “Oh, I didn’t think he was, believe me. I’ve seen sharks in their natural environment before.”

Derek’s eyebrow rose. “So you didn’t just gush over Duke Alion because he was the one that made you want to become a porn star?”

Astonished at the sheer venom in Derek’s voice, Stiles slowly shook his head. “Not really, no.”

Derek’s gaze lost a little of its ice, but he still look pissed.

Encouraged, Stiles forged on. “Mr. Alion wasn’t the one that got me into porn. That was you, actually. When I first started, I wanted to be exactly like you.” He grinned. “Of course, that was before I realized that my talents were lying, um, elsewhere.”

Derek looked at him for a long time, face unreadable. “If that’s the truth-“

“It is!”

“- then I’m very sorry.”

With that, he turned his attention back to his phone, leaving Stiles to stare at him in total disbelief. Fortunately, it was then that Lydia called him over and he went without a backward glance. He felt disheartened by the encounter and even though he knew that he was enough of a pro to get it up regardless, he was also positive that every bit of real enjoyment he could have brought to the scene had been snuffed out.

“This is going to be a disaster,” he murmured, not even caring about werewolf hearing.

 

* * *

 

It was only later in the dressing room, where he was turned into a rather sexy police officer, that Stiles realized that Derek had somehow known his whole name. 

 

* * *

 

“The scene is as follows,” the pretty director that had been introduced to Stiles as Allison said. “You, Stiles, are a cop that has just taken Alpha Derek here into custody. He is a rather bad boy and refuses to cooperate, leaving you no choice but to pull out the wolfsbane. He mouthes off, you retaliate and then things escalate.” She grinned a little before pinning Stiles down with a stern look. “As you may know, this is Derek’s debut as a bottom, so I want you to be firm and make it believable. But, and this is very important, I also need Derek to be as comfortable as possible, so he calls the shots. He says stop, we stop, got it?”

Stiles couldn’t help but glance at Lydia, incredulous as to why they felt they had to point out something like that. “Yeah, sure,” he said finally, in his ‘well, d’uh’ voice. Surprisingly, that earned him a real smile from the serious director. 

“Good,” she continued. “I want you to go with the flow as much as possible, as long as it ends with you making Derek come with your cock in his ass. Think you can manage that?”

Stiles grinned. “Pretty sure, yes,” he said and pretended very hard not to hear Derek’s derisive snort.

They made it through the intro scene rather quickly. According to a grinning Allison, their mutual animosity came across so naturally on screen that they even extended it a bit, allowing them to really get into character.

“Oh yeah, punk?” Stiles snapped, leaning over the small table that was the only furniture in the rather spacious interrogation room set. “What are you gonna do about it, huh?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, _pig_ ,” Derek spat, his eyes glowing red as he strained against the handcuffs. “I’m gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth.”

Stiles laughed, a nasty little sound that he’d picked up from Lydia. “I’d put those fangs away if I were you. I’d hate to have to saw them off.”

Derek hissed, defiantly letting his canines grow and snapping at Stiles.

“Cut!” Allison yelled. “Very good so far, now on to the main event. Stiles, you all ready to go?”

He grinned as he patted his swollen crotch. “Yup.”

He didn’t watch when they checked to make sure Derek was properly prepared. Taking the time to help himself to a bottle of cherry-flavored coconut water, he came back just in time to see everyone being shooed off the main set as Allison sprinkled oil into a vaporizer. The fumes were of a deep purple color and even though the typical scent was missing, it looked enough like wolfsbane to fool even Stiles.

Yet what he didn’t expect was for Derek to blanch and grow pale when the vaporizer was placed on the table. 

Stiles was stunned. “This isn’t real wolfsbane, is it?” he asked, only half-serious. Because it couldn’t be, no way. 

Derek grimaced, shooting a glance at Allison. Stiles noted that she looked uncomfortable, staring down at her notes and talking rather urgently into a small walkie-talkie. “It’s not,” he murmured with a sigh. “They’re using mistletoe. It’s got enough of an edge to it for me to feel it, but not enough to do real harm.”

“Oh,” Stiles breathed. “Okay. Is this. I mean, this can’t be legal though, can it?”

“Forget it.” Derek growled, rolling his shoulders as far as he could in the handcuffs. 

“What? But--“ Stiles started, even as he saw Allison shake her head with a deep frown.

“I said, forget it.” Derek had slumped down in his seat in what looked like defeat, and Stiles had to stifle the sudden and inexplicable urge to comfort him. Which, yeah, probably wouldn’t go over well judging by the disdainful look Derek shot at him from under lowered lashes.

Shaking it off, he told himself that this was all just for show anyway. There was no way that someone as famous as Derek Hale would ever be subjected to maltreatment like this, even if their line of work was prone to that sort of abuse and coercion. Once again, he thanked his lucky stars for the way Danny and Lydia handled their business. 

He couldn’t imagine going through the sort of stuff some his colleagues had experienced, Isaac and Boyd being amongst them. 

“Alright, I think we’re all set.” Allison was looking at the camera and sound guys, receiving nods all around. “Derek, I see you’re already in character. Stiles, you good to go?” 

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled. He was a bit thrown when Derek gave him a deadpan wink. Talk about mixed signals.

Allison moved off screen, and Stiles took the vaporizer in his hands, readying himself for the gritty scene.

“Silence, please,” Allison called out. “And action!”

Stiles sneered as he stepped closer to the bound Alpha. “Told you I’d make you regret mouthing off to me, punk.” He set the vaporizer down and watched as a purple cloud wafted over to Derek. 

The werewolf hissed and leaned back in his seat, glaring at Stiles even as the red bled from his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

Stiles grinned. “Oh, you know, the usual. A confession, maybe a compliment or two, your ass…”

“My,” Derek repeated, voice a little faint. “My, what?”

Grabbing Derek by his bound wrists, Stiles kicked the chair from under him, slamming his upper body down on the table. The camera was half behind him, so he made sure that his hand was between Derek’s face and the unforgiving metal. He pulled back before the angle changed enough for it to be caught on film.

“You heard me,” he hissed in Derek’s ear, rubbing against the werewolf, letting him feel his erection. “Don’t tell me you didn’t do it on purpose, shoving that tight ass in my face like a bitch in heat.”

Derek growled, straining against Stiles grip. He was playing along beautifully, though, pretending to be weakened by the wolfsbane, slumping back onto the table with a little moan. 

With a smug little grin that he made sure the camera would catch, Stiles fished a little key out of his pocket. In quick, jerky movements he divested Derek of the cuffs and his shirt, rather enjoying how pliant the werewolf was under his hands. He didn’t bother with opening the ankle cuffs, he just pulled down Derek’s pants and let them hang under his knees.

“No underwear, huh?” He chuckled, forcing Derek’s legs apart. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

The quiet “yes,” was almost too soft to be heard. 

“What was that?” Stiles asked, not unkindly, allowing Derek to brace himself against the metal surface. 

“Yes, I want it,” Derek snarled, even as he shoved his ass back against Stiles’ clothed crotch. 

After that, it was a haze of freeing himself of his own pants and glorious skin on skin contact, until finally – and only after he’d made sure that Derek was indeed well-prepared – Stiles slipped into tight heat. 

He moaned from deep in his throat, having forgotten how overwhelmingly good this could feel, marveling at the perfect globes of Derek’s ass, at the smoothness of his skin and the way his muscles bunched and released as he stroked both hands over the broad expanse of his back.

Giving the Alpha a moment to get used to the feeling, Stiles slowly began to move. He could hear Derek’s harsh breathing and almost as soon as he started, a light sheen appeared on that golden skin. 

They quickly settled into a rhythm, one that was bound to get them off quickly and this time, Stiles wasn’t sure that he could stave it off. Not with the way Derek was tightening around him, the friction and sheer eroticism of the moment having Stiles move faster and faster as he chased the peak.

From the breathy sounds he was making, Derek wasn’t far behind. As the burning pleasure intensified and began to pool hotly at the base of his spine, about the only thing Stiles could think of was that he had to make Derek come first. 

Grabbing hold of Derek’s cock, Stiles made sure to squeeze it tight at the base, right over the subtle thickening of his knot. It wouldn’t become much more than that, not with so little stimulation, but he knew that it was a hot spot for werewolves at any time. “Come for me,” he groaned hotly, twisting his hand. “Do it now!” 

Underneath him, Derek grunted and froze, his cock pulsing in sudden, sharp quivers as he came all over Stiles’ hand. He clenched hard around Stiles and he too came with a hoarse cry, hips snapping forward in involuntary thrusts as the orgasm overwhelmed him. 

He fell forward on Derek’s broad back, spilling deep inside him in long spurts of pure bliss. Groaning as the last shivers raced through him, Stiles rubbed his face against the silky skin underneath his cheek, pressing a series of licking kisses on that intriguing tattoo.

Underneath him, Derek shuddered, and Stiles slid his free hand around his shoulder to rub at his chest soothingly. “You did so well,” he whispered, going with the flow of the moment rather than the half-scripted dialogue he was supposed to cite. “Such a good little wolf, you took me so well. It felt good, huh? Me coming inside you, marking you like this?”

“Yeah,” Derek breathed and Stiles couldn’t stop a proud grin from spreading on his face at how wrecked the werewolf sounded.

When he pulled out, Derek moaned a little in discomfort, but stayed prone. He looked gorgeous like this, all sleek muscles and tawny, glowing skin. His position practically screamed grudging surrender, a trickle of white running down his strong legs. Stiles swallowed hard. Stepping back went against every grain of his being and he fought to keep the frown off his face even as he did. 

Forcing himself back into character, he didn’t bother with shoving his dick back into his pants. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his back-pocket, he slapped Derek’s ass with his flat hand. “You ready to make a statement now?”

Still panting a little, Derek straightened up but never raised his eyes. “Yes.”

Stiles smiled. “Yes, what?”

At that, Derek finally looked up, and instantly Stiles was caught by the intensity in that gaze. “Yes, _Sir_ ,” the werewolf said, a thousand unspoken promises in his hazel-green eyes.

“Cut!” Allison yelled from somewhere behind them. 

Stiles flinched, for a moment having forgotten where they were. Derek however didn’t seem to have the same problem. As soon as the call had come, he’d snapped the ankle cuffs in one smooth motion and had pulled up his pants and was gone before Stiles could even say “good scene”. 

Allison gave him a warm smile as he wandered over to her. “That was pretty impressive. I didn’t think we’d get the whole thing done this morning at all, much less in one take.”

Stiles nodded. “Is he, um,” he gestured vaguely in the direction Derek had gone. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Allison laughed, flicking her auburn hair back in a rather endearing gesture. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. He always does that after one of the more intense scenes. Some say he needs a moment to center himself, but in my opinion, that’s bullcrap. He’s a total hygiene freak and just takes the chance for first shower.”

Feeling a little better already, he spotted Lydia across the room and was treated to a wide smile. Grinning to himself, Stiles dabbed at his face with a small towel someone handed him. “Take that, mortgage,” he murmured as he made his way to the dressing room, hoping to catch Derek there. It felt a little weird not to at least exchange a few words after a shoot, but shrugged it off as sentimentality when the room proved to be empty.

As he stepped out a few minutes later, scrubbed clean and ready to go, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Standing with his back against the wall was Derek, with Mr. Alion seeming to loom over him despite the fact that they were of the same height.

“—hope you liked it, Derek. Because that’s your new niche now.” Alion’s voice was low and he had a slight smile on his face. He looked for all the world like he was absorbed in a warm conversation with his employee, if it weren’t for the fact that Derek’s hands were clenched so tight, Stiles actually saw a drop of blood appear. 

“Yes, Mr. Alion,” Derek said and it sounded so much like the tone he had used during the scene that Stiles’ blood ran cold.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Alion chuckled, reaching out to touch Derek’s cheek in a mockery of a gentle caress. “Don’t you think after all this time, it’s about time you called me Duke?”

“That would hardly be appropriate. Sir.” 

Alion let out a booming laugh and shook his head fondly. “Careful there,” he said so softly Stiles could barely make out the words. “You don’t want to make things any worse now, do you? I thought that choosing _him_ made today a rather impressionable lesson. Was I wrong?”

Derek looked murderous. “Leave him out of this,” he growled and it was then that his gaze flicked over to where Stiles was standing frozen in place.

He was too far away for Stiles to make out details of his expression, but even his limited human sight couldn’t miss the flash of ruby red that illuminated Derek’s irises for the split second that their eyes met.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Mr. Alion said then, stepping back from Derek and smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt. “A little advice, Derek. Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

He made to go and as if conjured out of thin air, Mrs. Alion was suddenly right there. Even from a distance, Stiles could see a hint of claws on her bare feet as she smirked at Derek before linking arms with her husband and leading him away. 

Still reeling from what he had overheard, from what it implied, Stiles made a mad dash to intercept Derek before he could reach the exit.

“Say, Derek,” Stiles said conversationally, never mind that he was breathing a little hard. “What was that all about? Because I thought we were all professionals here and _that_ didn’t sound professional at all.”

Derek was carefully neutral. “None of your business.” 

“Really,” Stiles said caustically. “So the ‘him’ your boss was rambling on about, that wasn’t me?”

Derek hesitated. He looked like he’d rather shovel Tauntaun shit than have this conversation with him.

Stiles flushed with embarrassment, a ball of ice settling in his gut. “See, that sort of makes it my business. What then, this whole thing was just some elaborate prank? Haha, look at the little twink boy trying to top the big bad wolf?”

Derek actually flinched at that. “It wasn’t a prank.”

“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe right now.” Stiles was furious. Despite his Dad’s easy acceptance of his lifestyle, there were still days when he wished he’d chosen another path, when the stigma of making his living in porn bothered him. To be faced with the very real possibility that he was the butt of some kind of sick joke hit him right where it hurt most – his own insecurity.

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Derek swallow heavily and open his mouth a couple of times, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “It was punishment,” was what finally made it out.

As explanations went, it was pretty crappy. Stiles let out a bitter little laugh. “Sleeping with me was punishment?” he asked softly. To his utter mortification, he had to blink back a sudden sting of tears. “Well, that’s just great.” 

Shaking his head, Derek made as if to reach out to him, a peculiar look on his face. 

Stiles quickly turned away, resolutely looking everywhere but Derek. When he saw Lydia stalking his way, an almost visible thundercloud hanging over her head and barking his name, Stiles was actually relieved.

“Stiles!” She snapped, throwing an arm around his waist and maneuvering him to the door. It was both protective and possessive and the sheer force of her mother-henning did a lot to restore Stiles’ confidence. “I hope you have everything, because we’re going. And you,” she pointed at Derek, looking as formidable as she always did when she was going to bat for her people, “you can tell your bosses that if they like to play ball so much, maybe they’d be interested in a friendly game of Lacrotch against us? I’d have to warn them, though, looks like we’ll have double the advantage.”

Choking a little as he got the reference, Stiles looked at her in astonishment. “You signed the twins?”

“Right from under their noses,” she grinned as she steered Stiles towards his car. 

Looking back, Stiles couldn’t help but seek out Derek’ still form. The one glimpse he got of him almost made him turn around. Derek was staring into space as if he couldn’t summon the energy to move, his face pale even in the sunlight washing in from the open door. 

Looking away, refusing to feel bad for him, he fished his car-keys out of his pocket. “I take it the negotiations didn’t go well?”

“There were none,” Lydia said flatly, settling down into the passenger seat, grimacing as she pulled the wrapper of a chocolate bar out from under her ass. “Whatever they wanted from us, it wasn’t collaboration. But there’s no way they’re going to weasel out of paying you for the scene you did today, so don’t even worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Great.”

 

* * * 

 

“You want to talk about it?”

Stiles didn’t look up from his game. “Nope.”

Scott hesitated. “You sure? I could stay…”

Hitting pause, Stiles reached over and grabbed his glass of rum and coke. “And piss Isaac off by bailing on him?”

Scott gave him a narrow look. “If you need me, I’ll stay. He’ll understand.”

Swallowing back a wave of emotion, Stiles gave his best friend a crooked grin. “I’m alright, Scott. Just, you know, wallowing in what-could-have-beens. But I’ve got my good friend ‘Mount Gay’ here,” he waved the rum bottle with a saucy grin, “and the generous selection of sulking foods you provided – thanks for that, by the way – so I think I’m all set.”

Scott sighed. “You could just tell me what happened.”

“There’s nothing _to_ tell,” Stiles exclaimed. “I’m an idiot, is all, and I’ll get over it, just like I always do.”

Scott made a face. Shrugging out of his jacket, he basically shoved Stiles over, plopping down next to him on the couch. “You’re such a drama queen, Stilinski. Hand me that controller, will ya? And one of them fine drinks you have there, too. I’m going to kick your scrawny ass now and then we’ll order in pizza.”

Startled into a laugh, Stiles settled back into the cushions and let himself be coddled, Scott-style. When Isaac joined them an hour later, they were well into the bottle of rum and recounting the good old High School days. 

As he lay there, much later, Stiles watched with half-lidded eyes as Scott and Isaac kissed. It was the sort of unhurried, gentle kiss he associated with wedding anniversaries and lazy Sunday mornings. He sighed a little, distantly lamenting the fact that he was most likely destined to end up alone, even as he was soothed by the gentle cadence of Scott’s whispers and Isaac’s soft laughter, marveling at the tender expression on their faces.

He was about to drop off, too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, wondering vaguely where he had seen that same look before.

 

* * *

 

The e-mail was so innocuous, he almost overlooked it. It wasn’t from any address he recognized and he was instantly suspicious. This was his private account, not the one he’d opened for his fans to use, so it was rare that he got messages from anybody other than his Dad or Lydia.

The subject line was “make of this what you will” and the mail had been sent by hellfire@lonewolf.org. He’d never seen the address before but he was curious, so after a moment of deliberation, Stiles opened it. 

There wasn’t any text, not even a greeting, and nothing to help him discern who had sent it. It contained only a single link, unabridged and obviously simply copied in. 

Wary of spam, Stiles hovered his cursor over the link for a few moments. It looked okay, though, leading to a popular celebrity gossip site that specialized in reporting mostly from Porn Valley. 

Tapping his finger on the touch-pad, Stiles opened the link in a new window. It was a written interview from about three weeks ago, one in a series of ‘Get to know the porn actor’ articles, and featured none other than Demon Wolf Productions Exclusive Derek Hale. 

Intrigued, Stiles began to read, realizing as he went that there wasn’t anything in it that he didn’t already know about Derek. He was originally from Beacon Hills as well – a fact Stiles had obsessed over excessively – his parents and most of his siblings had died in a house fire when he was sixteen, and he got into porn because he liked the challenge, not because he needed the money. 

It wasn’t until he got to the last few questions that Stiles sat up straight, eyes glued to the screen.

 _ **Silicone Valley News** : Last we heard of you, you were thinking about retiring from the biz. Of course, that was before you shot ‘Alpha Dicks – (K)nocturnal’. Any insight you’d like to give our readers into why you’ve changed your mind?_  
 **DH** : (deadpan) What can I say, I liked the script of ‘Alpha Dicks’. (cracks up) No, seriously, it’s just one of those things, you know? You think you know what you want, and then it turns out that you didn’t have a clue. Apparently, I want to work.

 _ **Silicone Valley News** : And of course we’re always glad to have you. Tell us something about your recent co-star, Jackson Whittemore. _  
**DH** : It’s great working with Jackson. He’s a cool guy, and very hot, obviously. We mesh well, it’s always fun with him. 

_**Silicone Valley News** : Would Jackson be your first choice then, if you could decide on your next co-star?_  
 **DH** : Not really, no. If it was up to me, I’d mix it up a bit and go for someone totally different. I’ve recently watched this great solo scene from Stiles, you know, the one he did in his real bedroom? 

_**Silicone Valley News** : I think everyone knows that one. It was Stiles’ audition tape, wasn’t it? _  
**DH** : Yeah. There’s something about the way he gives in to the moment that’s mesmerizing. He’s very talented. I’d love to work with him sometime.

 _ **Silicone Valley News** : I’m sure that there’d be quite a few cases of spontaneous combustion should you guys ever work together. Well, thank you for being here, Derek, and good luck on your next projects. _  
**DH** : Yeah, no problem. 

“Huh,” Stiles said, stunned by what he’d just read. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed his phone and called Scott. It went to voicemail after the fifth ring.

“Hey, Scott,” he said after the beep. “It’s me. Remember that thing with Derek Hale I didn’t want to talk about? Yeah, I may have changed my mind about that. Call me as soon as you get this.”

At the bottom of the page were a bunch of links to older interviews. Taking a sip of his coke, Stiles settled in to read.

 

* * * 

 

“It’s just so strange, you know?” He mumbled around a mouthful of lasagna later that night. “Derek was making noises about quitting and then all of a sudden he’s working more than ever before? And then he changes his contract to include something he’s always steadfastly refused to do _and_ tells me later that shooting that scene with me was some kind of corporal punishment? Please tell me that I’m not the only one reading between the lines here.”

Scott was frowning as he stared down at his plate of shrimp linguine. “What exactly are you trying to say, Stiles?”

Stiles let out an explosive breath. “Fuck if _I_ know. It’s just. Ah man, I just can’t shake the feeling that Derek’s in real trouble.”

Scott smacked his lips, shaking his head at him. “You always were a sucker for the bad boy in trouble.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles said, turning back to his food. “At least I’m not in love with a human puppy.”

Scott’s lips immediately turned into a soppy smile. “He is at that, right? And even more so in bed, you wouldn’t believe the things he comes up with…”

Stiles dry-heaved a little and shoved back his plate. “Check, please.”

 

* * * 

 

He didn’t really know what possessed him to google the words ‘Hale, porn, young’ that night as he lay in bed, unable to sleep. It was only after he’d clicked on a link on the second page of search results that led him to a straight porn website called ‘Barely Legal Betas’ that he knew he’d found it.

Staring at the little preview video almost made him sick. “Well, fuck.”

 

* * *

 

“Isn’t there something you can do?”

Lydia looked at him, completely serious for once. “Stiles, I’m not sure what you expect from me. Hale’s contract is airtight. He’s been with DWP forever and whatever conditions he did or didn’t include when he signed with them is really none of our business. Why is this so important to you anyway? I thought the guy was a total dick to you – and not in the good way either?”

Stiles shook his head, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, I know, it’s just. There’s something very iffy going on at DWP, Lyds. You should have seen this Mr. Alion guy, he was all over Derek.”

“Maybe the two of them…?”

“No!” Stiles exclaimed, earning himself a startled look for this outburst. “No, it wasn’t like that, okay? It was like Alion had some sort of power over Derek, it was creepy.”

“Look, Stiles,“ Lydia said gently. “I know about your little crush on Derek Hale and hey, I would totally jump on the chance to sign a big name like him. But there’s nothing we can do as long as he doesn’t ask for help.”

“I think he’s being black-mailed!” Stiles blurted out, slapping a hand over his mouth just that tad little bit too late. 

Lydia did a double-take. “Stiles,” she sighed then, looking at him like she used to back in school when he was being particularly dense, her smile saccharine-sweet and her eyes sharp. “Sit down and tell me the whole story.”

Stiles did.

 

* * *

It took surprisingly little effort to get Derek Hale’s cell phone number. 

Derek answered on the second ring. “Yes?”

“So, let me just check real quick if I got this right,” Stiles said cheerfully. “You wanted to quit the business a couple of months ago. Duke Alion, your boss and utter creep, blackmails you into staying by shoving that old vid of your little sister doing the nasty in your face, and to cap his evil campaign of evil, he forces you into violating your professional boundaries. Am I close?”

“Stiles,” he heard Derek breathe, and then he was gone. 

Stiles listened to the dial tone for a whole minute, asking himself if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. 

Half an hour later, his doorbell rang. 

“Not a good moment for Jehova’s witnesses,” Stiles murmured, wiping flour off his hands. 

When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a huge bottle of Daily’s Sweet & Sour Mix. Stiles blinked.

“I read somewhere that you like these,” Derek said from behind the bottle. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m going to need some liquid courage for the conversation we’re about to have.”

“Uh,” Stiles said, his brain defunct because Derek Hale was standing on his front-step. “What conversat-- I mean, yeah, sure, conversation! I’m all for that! Communicating and sharing things and, you know, talking in general…” He trailed off then, rubbing a hand over his face, sneezing as he got flour in his nose. 

When his eyes had stopped watering, he looked up to find Derek leaning in the doorway, lips curled into a slight smile. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said, grinning sheepishly. “Why don’t you come in? I need to wash this stuff off or I’m never going to be able to stop sneezing. Also, I’m pretty sure that whatever you have to say, it’s bound to be a private discussion.”

Derek’s smile dimmed. “Yes.” He stepped into the house, following Stiles all the way into the kitchen, looking around curiously. “What were you doing in here?”

Stiles blushed, suddenly aware of the mess he’d made earlier. “Baking Snickerdoodles.”

Derek looked at him as if he’d just sprouted antlers.

Stiles flushed hotly. “I’m a stress baker, okay?”

Nodding absently, Derek nicked a bit of the raw dough. “My mom used to do that,” he said gruffly, looking anywhere but at Stiles.  
Humming a little in what he hoped was unobtrusively go-ahead like, Stiles quickly washed his hands and turned back to his baking. Checking that the oven was properly pre-heated, he started rolling little balls from the dough.

Derek watched him from where he was leaning against the counter. “She used to have these big fights with my sister Laura,” he murmured finally. “She’d make chocolate chip cookies when she was only mildly annoyed, but it was when she whipped out the Angel Wings that we knew Laura was in deep shit.”

Dredging the dough balls in a mix of sugar and cinnamon, Stiles laid them on a baking sheet, making sure that they weren’t too close together. “Laura was your older sister?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah. She died in the fire, too, so it’s only Cora and me now. Oh, and Uncle Peter, but he doesn’t count.”

Startled into looking up at the wry tone, Stiles was surprised to find a small grin on Derek’s face. “Why’s that?”

“You’ll know when you meet him.”

His heart suddenly pounding, Stiles nodded slowly. “I hope I’ll get the chance,” he said softly.

Derek cleared his throat and looked away. He was quite obviously distancing himself from where their tentative flirtation could lead, but for now, Stiles let it slide. 

“Where should I put this?” Derek held up the bottle he’d brought. 

Stiles huffed a little laugh as he gestured towards the freezer. “You do realize that there’s not actually any alcohol in these, right?”

Derek stared at the bottle. “Well, fuck.”

“Don’t worry,” Stiles laughed. “I’m sure I can find something to spice it up a bit.”

 

* * *

 

They were sitting out on the porch, overlooking Stiles’ little garden. The sun was about to set, dipping the sky in brilliant shades of red and orange. 

“So talk,” Stiles murmured, after he’d refilled their glasses for the second time. “Start with telling me how close to the truth I was earlier.”

Derek grimaced, turning a cookie around in his fingers, crumbling it up instead of eating it. “Pretty close. Except that things are a bit more complicated.” He glanced at Stiles then, eyes shuttered. 

“Go on,” Stiles murmured. “You’ve come this far. Now see it through.”

Derek snorted. “You should have become a shrink,” he commented dryly. “You’ve got the trust-me-voice down pat.”

“And deprive the world of my real talents? I don’t think so.”

The smile Derek gave him was bordering on affectionate. “It’s obvious, you know, to anyone that really looks at you, how much you enjoy what you’re doing. That’s a real gift.” 

Sensing that there was more to the apparent non-sequitur, Stiles waited. 

Derek heaved a sigh and leaned forward a bit. “I’ve always wanted to become a firefighter, even before what happened to my family. I have all this strength, you know, and the healing. Did you know that werewolves can relieve pain simply by touching someone?”

Stiles nodded, gulping around the sudden lump in his throat. He had a pretty good idea where this was going.

“I actually went to college for a couple of years and left Cora with my Uncle. Big mistake, in retrospect. He didn’t care enough to find out how to handle her and both of them were too fucking proud to call on me when things got out of hand and by the time Cora finally showed up on my doorstep, it was already too late.”

Stiles let out a long breath. “She’d signed with Demon Wolf.”

“Yeah,” Derek hung his head, chuckling bitterly. “When I went to Alion to get her released from the contract, he laughed in my face. See, he’d been trying to recruit me for as long as I’d been legal and finally saw his chance. We made a deal.”

“Jesus.” It was even worse than he’d imagined. “So when you tried to leave…”

“He upped the ante. I’d just had enough, you know? I wanted out, away from his mind-games and from that life. I actually thought that because he and Mom had been friends once, that maybe that’d mean _something_ to him.“ Derek shrugged helplessly, betrayal warring with righteous anger. “I got uppity, as he called it, and that’s when he cocked up the wolfsbane scene. He’s always had a flair for the dramatic.”

“Shit,” Stiles breathed, horrified. “Shit, Derek, I’m so sorry.”

Derek looked at him askance. “What in the hell are you sorry for?” 

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face. “About being a part in all this, unwittingly as it was. If I’d known…”

Derek shrugged. “You didn’t. It’s over. Cora’s contract is on hold as long as I stay with DWP and she can live her life the way Mom and Dad would have wanted for her.”

Stiles’ heart broke a little at the utter desolation in Derek’s voice. “But--“

“Look, Stiles,” Derek interrupted him brusquely. “I didn’t tell you all this to score sympathy points. Of all people Duke could have chosen for this particular shoot, he picked you and that’s the only not-crappy thing that’s happened to me in a long time, so.”

Refusing to blush at the backhanded compliment, Stiles nodded, making a zipping motion over his closed lips. For a while, they just sat there, enjoying as the cooler night air dispersed the heat of the day.

Stiles watched Derek take a sip of his drink and grinned a little at his resulting grimace. Letting his mind drift, he thought on everything he’d just learned. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something about Derek and how he’d phrased certain things…

He suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh, crap,” he exclaimed. “That was your first time, wasn’t it?!”

Looking wary, Derek inclined his head. “The movie is called ‘Busting Alpha Cherry’. What do you think?”

“No, I mean,” Stiles mind was reeling. “That was your actual, legitimate first time! That’s why you were such an ass to me that day.”

Derek’s stony silence was very telling. 

“Oh god,” Stiles babbled. “I’ve devirginized Derek Hale. I am a corrupter of virgin ass, a defiler of innocence… I didn’t hurt you though, did I? Fuck, I went in there pretty fast and you were a frickin’ _virgin_ and I didn’t know and…” He trailed off as a tiny sound actually made him look at Derek.

The Alpha was pale, his face a grim mask. “I’ve got to go,” he said flatly, dropping his glass onto the table with more force than necessary.

“No, please, I’m sorry,” Stiles felt sick, scrambling up from his seat as fast as he could, talking all the while. “My brain doesn’t always connect to my mouth, surely you’ve noticed that already!” 

“It’s none of your business, okay?” Derek hissed.

“I know, I know,” Stiles asserted. “And I promise that I’ll never breathe a word about this ever again, okay? Just stay, please?”

Derek slowly shook his head. “I can’t. I have to pick up Cora from her shift at the coffee house.”

Stiles deflated. “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Derek turned to go, his body one tense line. There was nothing left of the easy camaraderie of only moments before and Stiles already mourned the loss.

Derek was almost at the door, Stiles following him like a lost lamb, when he suddenly stopped short. “It’s not that I never wanted to,” Derek said, so softly, Stiles had to take a step closer to hear him. “Be like _that_ with someone, I mean. I just didn’t exactly expect it to happen quite like that. For all it’s worth, though, I’m glad it was you.”

Stunned into speechlessness, Stiles nodded. Opening the door for him, he watched Derek walk to his car, absently noting the sleek beauty of the black Camaro. “For all it’s worth, Derek,” he murmured, werewolf-soft. “I will find a way to make this right.”

Outwardly, Derek showed no sign of having heard him. It was only later that a message popped up on Stiles’ phone.

**I trust you**

 

 

* * *

 

Stiles insisted on calling the WhatsApp group ‘Free Derek’.

 **No** was the first thing Derek replied, and refused to answer any of Lydia’s questions until Stiles changed the name. Grinning, he typed in ‘White Fang’ and waited.

**STILES!**

 

* * *

 

The meeting had something of covert ops. They’d chosen a restaurant that was well out of the way, with Scott sitting a few tables away in case there was trouble. 

Derek rolled his eyes as he sat down. “Nice hat.”

Stiles hand flew to the ridiculous fishing hat he’d pulled out of his Dad’s closet. “Seriously, dude, you didn’t make _any_ effort to disguise yourself? What if someone recognizes you?”

“I’ll write my name on a piece of paper?” 

“Derek, be serious--“

“That’s funny, coming from the guy in the fish hat.”

Scowling, Stiles crossed his arms. “You could have at least worn a different shirt.”

Derek’s eyebrows knitted together as he tugged on his collar. “What’s wrong with this one?”

Stiles exploded into frantic motion as he tried to get across everything that was wrong with Derek’s shirt. “It’s too tight, okay? And it’s blue and yellow and it’s all kinds of indecent. I mean, come on, nipples? Really?”

“Stiles,” Lydia said then, tapping her heel against the metal table leg. “If you’re quite finished playing Queer eye for the gay guy, maybe we could just get on with this? I do have somewhere to be, you know.”

Focusing on her, Derek nodded. Stiles didn’t even see him move, but yelped when his foot connected painfully with his shin. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I’ll make it quick, Hale. I found a loophole that will effectively render your sister’s contract null and void.”

Instantly serious, Derek narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Did you now. And what makes you think _you_ have discovered something in a couple of days that my lawyer wasn’t able to find in two years?” 

Lydia looked at her nails. “Either he’s phenomenally stupid for missing the obvious, or…”

“Or Duke Alion has him in his pocket,” Stiles finished for her.

“Shit,” Derek hissed, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so what is it you think you uncovered?”

Lydia gave him a toothy grin. “Cora wasn’t eighteen when she signed the contract.”

Derek snorted. Just like that, the tiny spark of hope in his eyes faded away and his shoulders drooped. “That’s your big ace in the hole?” He got up from his seat and grabbed his jacket. “Look, this is a waste of time, I should have known better--”

“Derek,” Stiles said softly, half-standing as he grabbed Derek’s arm desperately. “Humor us, okay? At least let us proof that we’re not complete idiots.”

Shaking his head, Derek sat back down. “Go ahead then,” he said sarcastically. “Amaze me.”

Lydia cracked her neck, giving him a slight sneer. “Even though Cora wasn’t eighteen when she signed with DWP, that doesn’t actually help us since she was emancipated shortly after her seventeenth birthday, giving her all rights and duties of an adult.”

Derek frowned.

“But,” Lydia continued, grinning, “there is one little detail Mr. Alion didn’t pay attention to when he had Cora sign the contract.” 

She slid a piece of paper over to Derek. She’d highlighted a particular paragraph and it didn’t take him long to read it.

“Huh,” Derek said. “And you’re sure about this?”

She grinned. “Positive. Let’s just say that a little birdie helped me get a look at the file.”

“It was Jackson,” Stiles volunteered. “Apparently, he couldn’t wait to stick it to Alion.”

“Yo, guys,” Scott yelled from across the room, making Derek wince. “Can someone read it out to me? I want to know what’s going on!”

Derek guffawed, nodding at Lydia as she raised an eyebrow at him. Snatching the paper back, she folded it up and put it away. “It’s simple, really. In the state of California, there is a stipulation when conducting business deals with emancipated minors that states that a certified copy of the Declaration of Emancipation has to be included in the paperwork. Seeing as Cora never even picked hers up at the probate clerk’s office, not only is the contract unlawful, but if played right, Cora could even sue DWP and have a pretty good chance of winning.”

“That’s awesome!” Scott cheered, pumping a hand in the air, drawing startled looks from some of the other patrons. He ignored them as he contentedly began to munch on the fries he’d ordered. 

Derek looked like he’d been put through the wringer. “All this time…” he murmured softly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Stiles said firmly, reaching under the table to surreptitiously lay a hand on Derek’s knee, squeezing a bit. “But it’s over now, Derek. From now on you can be anything you want to be.”

Derek smiled a little sadly. “I’m not sure I even know what that is.”

“You’ll find out,” he said, pointedly leaving out the ‘and I’ll help you’. Judging from Derek’s quiet smile, though, it didn’t go unheard.

“This is all very heart-wrenching,” Lydia remarked in a tone that spoke of her utter contempt. “But seeing as I was the one to do all the work, let’s talk compensation.”

Stiles turned towards her. “Oh, you mean other than the date you scored with Jackson? The one where he’s going to take you on a weekend trip to London?”

“Hm,” she made, flashing Stiles a grin as she got up. “Worth a try. Nice doing business with you, Mr. Hale. Stiles.”

“Lydia,” Derek called quietly, catching her hand as she went by him. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” she said, winking at him. “Just keep me in mind if you ever plan a comeback.”

To his credit, Scott waited until Lydia was gone before he turned in his seat and called over: “But wait! Isn’t Jackson gay?”

“Labels,” Stiles grinned. “Some people just can’t live without them.”

 

* * *

 

The day Derek officially retired from the porn business, Stiles met him at the front entrance of DWP. He was leaning against his Jeep with his arms folded over his chest. 

“So,” he murmured, watching as Derek came to stand before him and cracked his neck. “How does it feel to be a free man?”

Derek rolled his eyes, even as a smile grew on his lips. “It’s not like I was just released from prison, Stiles.”

“Bit like that, though,” Stiles said, eyes zeroing in on his mouth. 

Derek smirked, stepping closer until he was standing between Stiles’ legs. He couldn’t seem to draw his gaze away from him. “At least there were extensive conjugal visits.”

“Yeah, and think about all the fun we’ll have showing the vid of your deflowering to our grandchildren.”

“Thin ice, Stilinski,” Derek said in a low growl, pulling a face in disgust. 

Stiles chortled. “Oh man, that’s _got_ to be some kind of record. We’re not even properly together and already I’m in the dog-house.” He chuckled. “Get it? Dog-house!”

Smacking him upside the head gently, Derek used his subsequent yelp to shove his tongue into Stiles’ mouth, that punishing hand burying itself into his messy hair. Stiles melted into the kiss, his own hands running up Derek’s chest and wrapping around the sides of his neck.

Derek shuddered, breathing through his nose as he pulled Stiles back by his hair, forcing him to bare his throat, sucking a dark bruise onto the pale skin. “Not properly together, huh?” he breathed against Stiles’ ear.

“Don’t let my boyfriend catch you like this,” Stiles uttered, smiling. “He’s a big bad Alpha and just got out of prison.”

Derek snorted, disentangling himself from Stiles. “Smartass.”

Getting into the car, Stiles said thoughtfully, “You know, I’m almost grateful for how things have turned out.“ 

Looking over at Derek, he suddenly froze, feeling rather like an ant under a microscope at the heated glare thrown at him. “Yeah, that didn’t come out right. I just meant that--“ 

“I know what you meant,” Derek grunted, reaching over to take Stiles hand in his own, intertwining them. “Shut up and drive, Stiles.”

Stiles did.

He managed five minutes. “Hey, so now that you’re officially my stay-at-home trophy boy-toy, what exactly are your plans to keep me entertained?”

“Stiles!”

° the end


End file.
